Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1887-05-06
RECONCILHD.
ny E. H. r.

sMy darling sister-surely may
call you so, for l love you as dearly
as though we were both of the same
mother--why are you so averse to
Horace Walpole s He loves you
tenderly and truly, and his is not
. nature to love lightly it is the
love Of his life. His eyes hold for
you a depth of feeling that would
prove your glory, if yon would on.
" look upon him with half the ia
vor you bestow on Walter Grant.
Glare, why will you not see more
clearlyf Why tempt Fate to be I'M
kind to you 7"
al have listened to you very pa
tiently, Mary, because, l believe
that you love me and wish me hap
pineSs, but your words are worse
than thrown away. lean never re-
turn the affection Horace Walpole
feels for me, if, indeed, he feels any,
because l do not even like him."
"You have known Mr.. Walpole a
little less than six months, Clare,
and from the first you have evinced
a decided aversion to him. can
not understand in what you feel re-
PEELED, for he is gentlemanly, cour-
teous, and l can see beneath that
calm exterior, a world of tenderness
for the woman he will make his
wife,"
"Hush, May 1 shall never mar
~, and least of all men, Horace
Walpole. If you love me you will
never speak OF this again"
As Clare lett her, Mary watched
the tall, lissome figure, the wealth
of auburn hair, hanging in braids
far below her waist, and acknOwl-
edged to herself that fairer pic
ture had never crossed her vision.
"She attracts all alike, women as
we'll as men, yet to me she is mex
plicable,1 she murmured. "From
the FIRST moment of her introduc-
ton to Mr.. Walpole she has be-
haved in a manner so strange as to
lead me to think they have met be-
fore. wonder ifitis possible that
she met him in Richmond last win
ter. Nonsense What a tangled
web l would weave, if l allowed
my Imagination full scope" she
said laughingly, as she entered the
house.
II is just six months since Glare
Sherwood left her home in New
York to visit her schoolmate and
dearest friend, Mary LangstOn.-
Before leaving school they had reg
istered girlish VOWS to visit each
other once every year, and to make
a confident of each other in all their
love affairs.
They had been called "Queenie"
and "Gypsy" by the rest of their
schoolmates. Clare, because Of her
regal and almost naughty bearing,
aud Mary, because of a dark,
splendid beauty, that sparkled and
glOwed only the more when in con-
trast with Clare's auburn hair and
clear pink and white beauty.
The rhapsody and chatter Of their
first meeting was hardly over, ere
Mary fancied she detected a change
in her friend, and as time wore on
this fancy grew into a certainty.
"Clare does not seem happy she
does not enter into pleasure with
her old.time viyacity. What can
be the causep thought Mary, after
a day of more than usual languor
and indifference in her friend.
"Can it be that the canker, sor-
row, has entered her heart, and
will destroy a life so young and
tairi No, it must not be l cannot
watch her grow thin and pale, and
reach out no hand to help her. /
will question Mr.. Walpole. That
haunted look IN Clare's eyes when
she first met him must mean some
thing. And Mr.. Walpole-if Glare
would but look at him once, the
hopeless prayer in his eyes would
haunt her forever But no, she
avoids him as though he embodied
all the pestilences. If she would
only confide in me, but she will not,
and l cannot force her confidence
1t is half past seven, and Glare
and Mary are in the parlor await.
ing the arrival of Walter Grant
and Mr.. Walpole. Glare is sitting
lazily before the fire, one tiny foot
thrust pe:ulantly forward, as though
she had found 1t in her way, and a
look of such sadness in the depths
Of her brown eyes that Mary, who
had been sitting opposite, stole
nOiselessly from the room with a
settled conviction expressed in
every motion.
A few moments later the curtains
we're held aside and Horace Wal.
pole entered, a man Of compact
form and fine Saxon features. lie
hesitated slightly when he saw
Clare, but the next instant he was
By her side.
"CIare, my darling, forgive me
Would you wreck both our lives
for a fault Of my youth ? This life
is torture to me! Clare, will not
give you up, you are mine, and
mine alone -